I
come to a stop when I hit the edge of town.
I
would have happily walked all the way across the globe had someone not stopped
me.
I
sensed them before I ever saw them. Well, sensed one of them, at least.
I
looked at them, and halted. They were still a few miles away, cresting a hill,
but I knew them instantly.
I
waited for them to come to me before I spoke, “What brings you here, brother?”
Ari
merely looked at me, raised his right hand, and wracked my entire body with
pain.
I
longed to faint, to escape, but I couldn’t.
I
could only scream.
I
felt my bowels loosen, my voice go hoarse, my skin coat itself with sweat, my
eyes burn and blast. I felt my knees bend, my body lifting into the air, fire
blanketing my skin.
The
agony lasted for forever.
It
was only when my mind could take no more and was finally lowering me into the
abyss of unconsciousness that I was finally released.
I
hear, as if carried on the wind, an argument between two familiar voices.
“Leave him; he couldn’t know!”
“That’s exactly why I must be certain.
Don’t you see? We can’t let him be free! He knows too little!”
“He’s your BROTHER!”
“Even more reason to be certain! Look
through my family tree—have any of us been worth trusting?”
“Then why do we trust you, if we
follow your reasoning?”
These next words are hisses, angry and
forced: “Because I have been TRAINED.”
There’s the sound of a scuffle, then
all-too recognizable shrieks of agony.
Thankfully, my mind gives way to the
darkness of unconsciousness before I hear any more.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I
wake to the familiar scent of pine needles. Smiling in the dreamy way of those
not yet awake, I murmured, “Hello, Nalika. Long time no see….”
Instead
of hearing her soft voice, I hear one that terrifies me, “Who’s Nalika, brother
mine?”
Ari.
I
jerk to my feet, almost falling from the instantaneous wave of vertigo that
flows over me. With shaking hands, I reach for my rapier and my knife, only to
touch empty sheathes.
“As
if they would have done you any good,” Ari says, rising to his feet. He
gestures to where my weaponry lies, beside him and across the small field I
found myself in. He brushed back his long black hair, as he approached me
slowly, “I am a Sourceror, after all.”
I
watched him, cautiously. He merely continued, watching my eyes. When he was
less than a hundred feet away, I started backtracking involuntarily, my eyes
wide. He laughed, and held out a hand to me. “Don’t be afraid,” Ari said,
pausing mid step, “I am not planning on hurting you, I merely want to talk.”
I
don’t stop backing away.
I
can’t take my eyes off the sight of his right hand, raised and pointing at me.
Ari
sighs, and lowers his hand. “Brother, come here, please. I don’t want to hurt
you, but I will if you force me to.”
I
pause. I couldn’t run, could I? And, if I complied, maybe he would stay true to
his word.
So,
summoning my courage—such as it is—I walked towards him. “Hello, Ari.” I forced
out.
He
smiles, and settles, legs crossed, upon the earth. He pats the ground beside
him, smiling. “Come here, brother,” he calls softly, gesturing me forward with
a wave of his left hand, “You have no reason to fear me now.”
I
take a seat where he wants me to, my eyes unwaveringly focused on his gaze,
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.
Nothing you’re unwilling to give. All I want is answers to my questions, ones
that are truthful and contain no questions,” he looked at me, and I nodded,
gesturing for him to continue, “What do you know about the Infinite?”
I
shrugged, and said, “Nothing, I’m afraid; what is…” I cut myself off, nearly
biting off my tongue in my waste to halt the words.
“Very
close to stumbling, brother, too close. Watch yourself more,” Ari admonished,
smiling to himself a bit before continuing, “What do you know about the Stone
Gate?”
“Nothing,”
I said, working hard to keep the question and the fear out of my voice,
“Nothing at all.”
“Good
answer,” he says approvingly, “What do you know about Liandros’ execution?”
I
shuddered, and closed my eyes tightly. He had caused it, so why was he asking
me? “I know he’s not dead. He’s immortal and trapped.”
“True.
Do you know why you can’t free him?” Ari asks, eyeing me carefully, darkly.
“N-no…”
I stammer, trying to keep the question from my voice.
Ari
smiles, faintly, and shifts his grip on my arm idly, so that the gold of the
bracelet is scarcely an inch from my bare skin. “I would free him if I could,
brother, but the problem is to do so would be an act of treason, one that would
get every Sourceror in existence to turn on me, so I cannot free him for you. I
cannot face them all. I can kill a few of my own kind before the rest take me
down, but all that would accomplish, my dearest brother, would for him to be
tortured and then returned to the grave. After, of course, ‘witnessing’ your
death.”
I
eye him sharply, my mouth opening. But before I can speak a question, Ari rests
a finger upon my lips, silencing me.
He
continues without a pause, “Ah-ah-ah, brother. I see the question in your
eyes—no need to speak it. We elves are a cold and cruel species, one that only
lives to destroy and see those that harm us in agony. Our beauty hides the
horror within—we are the perfect weapons. We are beautiful in every way—no one
can resist an elven suitor. But within we have no hearts, no souls. Elves by
nature are living statues—we cannot feel. We are stone inside.
“Why
I brought up that entertaining bit of twisted reality is this: We enjoy nothing
better than the pain of others, and your Liandros caused us pain, so to pay him back, the agony will be even greater for him
than it was for us. They cannot truly kill
you—they can only make it look like they did—but yet it will be enough to
torment Liandros for all eternity.”
I
just sit there looking at him. Ari laughs, and shift the bracelet away from me.
There’s a split second of silence, before he asks, “What do you know about the
Source?”
“Only
what you have told me, along with a few others.” I say quickly, my mind
whirling.
“What
do you know about the Source?” he repeats, his hand resting upon my arm with
gentle force.
“I
know it’s evil. I know it only wants to kill, I know it is everywhere, sees
everything, knows everything, and the people who can access it are driven mad
by it. I know…”
I
was cut off by the tightening of his hand on my arm.
“What was that last one?” he whispers
fiercely, his voice scarce more than a hiss from between clenched teeth.
I
trembled involuntarily, waves of animal terror rocketing through my trapped
arm, “That-that it drives people mad….” I force out, barely able to form the
words, thinking myself doomed for my unwary words.
I
watched him, unable to move, waiting for him to send waves of agony through his
right hand and into my arm, or worse yet, to adjust his grip only a bit and
touch the bare skin of my forearm with the cold gold of the bracelet.
Instead,
he laughed, his head thrown back. “Good answer!” he cried between shaking
laughs. “All too true, brother!” I was about to speak when he cut me off,
crying out cheerily, “Laugh with me, Kelree! It is a rare day when we can
celebrate good fortune!”
Thinking
myself just as mad as him, I laughed with him.
Eventually,
just as the pair of us were winding down, he let go of my arm. He slid a few
feet away, his eyes compassionate, “I know you fear me, Kelree, and that it is
my own fault. I want you to know that I am truly sorry for the pain I caused
you, but if you were as mad as I you would forgive me for it, because you would
understand. But, until you are as mad
as I, you can only have my apology and hope to understand one day that I had no
choice but to do what I did.
“But,
for now, shall we move on, and I can return you to Taurion, where the three of
us can drink until we die.”
Truth
be told, Liana, that sounded like a wondrous idea.
Especially
the dying part.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I
get very, very drunk. Very drunk. And I realize something: When Larind is
drunk, he gets funny. When Ari is drunk, he gets mean. When I get drunk, I get
hyper.
When
all of us get drunk at the same time?
You
don’t really want to know.
Suffice
to say, I now know more about how elves spend their nights than I ever wanted
to know. How much am I missing? was a
thought that passed often through my mind, along with others you can live a
long and happy life without knowing.
But
there is useful knowledge I managed
to, in a flash of drunken brilliance, managed to wheedle out of them.
As
it would take too long to write down everything they said, I shall put it in
list form.
·
The Infinite is the sentient
being that controls the Source, that IS the Source
·
The bracelets, called Keys,
were created long ago by a man driven mad by a strange ability to sense the
Infinite
·
He was put to death for
witchcraft
·
Ten years later, an unwary
slave cleaning a storage area put on the bracelet in the palace of Je-Herla
near Stavaks
·
The ruins are still deemed
unsafe now, two hundred years later
·
The Infinite was studied for a
decade before it was fully understood
·
The instant it was, every
Sourceror was killed, their bracelets locked away
·
When the orcs began their
attack a few decades ago, the bracelets were unlocked and the Sourcerors trained
solely among the elves
·
Five years ago, the training of
Sourcerors picked up in earnest, secretly
·
No one except for the Lady of
Slemerria knows why
I
could not get any of them to tell me a single thing about the Stone Gate, but
you can guess from the title of this narrative that it ends up being the most
important thing in the world very, very shortly.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I might as well skip quite a while here. During this time, there is healing of wounds, sharing of stories, and slowly, so slowly, do the three of us become friends. Every last injury is forgotten, and we finally get to trusting each other.
I might as well skip quite a while here. During this time, there is healing of wounds, sharing of stories, and slowly, so slowly, do the three of us become friends. Every last injury is forgotten, and we finally get to trusting each other.
None
of us ever speak about Liandros, but during our most unguarded moments Ari and
I share a single look, one filled with understanding, shame, and anger. We know
that there are wounds that will never heal, knowledge that will never fade. He
killed Liandros, and even though I know that was never his intention, he still
had caused the death of my best friend in the world.
No, I reminded myself, Liandros isn’t dead. He’s….he’s immortal.
And
buried alive.
My
eyes drip tears and I sigh, forcing away the memories, forcing away the guilt.
I do not want to think of him: I loved him!
And
he was going to remain trapped there for all eternity….
And,
ah yes, somewhere in this time, the manor is handed over to Taurion
permanently.
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